


A Long Week

by ThirdGenerationRockette



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: And More Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Kidfic, Post-Series, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 06:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13758582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirdGenerationRockette/pseuds/ThirdGenerationRockette
Summary: She hasn’t seen him because she’s been holed up in her office and has insisted on him doing the same right up until air time because the last thing she needs, or wants, is for either of them to pick up the germs that have been raging around the building all week. It isn’t like she expected to float back into work on a gentle chocolate river, but she really, really could have done without the Great ACN Stomach Flu of 2015.





	A Long Week

She hears Will coming through the door just as Henry finishes feeding and is starting to doze against her breast, perfect timing. Looking down, she strokes her hand softly over the baby's head, smiling at his blonde hair, his long eyelashes, his tiny pink mouth half open as he snuggles against her, his fingers gripping her shirt. It's hard to believe he's twelve weeks old already, it feels like mere days since he arrived and they were buying tiny newborn clothes for him, and now she's back at work and he's growing bigger by the hour. Will walks in and she looks up at him and smiles, weirdly finding herself happier to see him tonight than she was during the weeks she was at home with the kids and didn't see him all day.

She hasn’t seen him because she’s been holed up in her office and has insisted on him doing the same right up until air time because the last thing she needs, or wants, is for either of them to pick up the germs that have been raging around the building all week. It isn’t like she expected to float back into work on a gentle chocolate river, but she really, _really_ could have done without the Great ACN Stomach Flu of 2015. She put out some calls midweek when it started to become clear they were looking at a situation where Don was the only EP left standing, a decision validated when Don finally succumbed seven minutes before the end of Thursday’s ten o’clock show. So not only was she dodging the flu, determined not to spend her weekend dealing with two sick kids, she was trying to find two EPs to cover at short notice, and her relief at having finally made it through the week is immeasurable.

"Hey, honey." He steps over to the couch and leans down, kissing her and then glancing down at an oblivious Henry snoozing on her chest, stroking a finger gently down his cheek. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," she says, shifting the baby slightly and moving to close her shirt. "Something weird seemed to be happening tonight with the DC feed? It was a good show, I doubt it was noticeable to the viewers, but you might want-"

"The guys are on it, it's all good." He stands up to hang his coat, turning back to her and smiling. "What can I do here?"

"Could you burp him while I go to the bathroom and get changed?" At his nod, she walks over to him, draping a cloth over his shoulder before passing a sleeping Henry to him and watching as he settles him, his hand on the baby's back. "I'll check on Thomas on my way."

"Did you eat?" He frowns at her as he starts to pat his son's back, his other hand holding him securely against his chest. Henry's growing so big, so quickly, that she loves watching him in Will's arms, the one place he still looks tiny. "We have leftovers, I think, or I can call for take out?"

"I could eat, yeah." She shrugs, realising she meant to eat earlier but then between Henry spending the evening in clingy mode and Thomas needing a bath, the thought somehow passed as quickly as it arrived. "Chinese food might be good?"

"Works for me. I'll call once this little guy's gone down," he says, smiling when Henry lets out a satisfied burp against his shoulder. "Good job, buddy."

She smiles as she walks away, heading first for Thomas's room and peeking inside to see him sleeping in his usual style, legs and arms spread out wide, neither covered. Stepping further into the room, she does what they have to do most nights and shifts him just enough to slide him back under his bedding, dropping a soft kiss to the top of his head, pulling the door almost closed as she leaves the room. Again it hits her that the little boy she thought would always be her baby is now a big brother, and another tiny McAvoy down the hall is filling the baby role.

Will walks into their room just as she's finishing getting changed, and she lets out a long sigh at finally being out of her work clothes (just like intending to eat, she intended to change before now too...), wondering if what she's feeling is just first week exhaustion or if this is it now, if two kids and a job means constant exhaustion is a given. She drags her hair back into a ponytail and watches as Will puts a sleeping Henry gently down, her eyes following his hand as it strokes slowly down the baby's chest before pulling the blanket up. Walking over to him, she squeezes his hand and he looks up, raises his eyebrows.

"I'll go and order some food, you get changed," she says, sliding her hand from his, grinning when he hangs on and pulls her to him. "What?"

"Nothing." He shrugs, a soft smile on his face. "I missed you this week, that's all."

"That makes absolutely no sense, you know. After weeks of being at home, this was the week we were finally back in the same building again every day, you big softie." She lets his fingers slip from hers and leans into him slightly when he rests his hand on her shoulder, rubbing his thumb slowly over the bone.

"Yeah, but just as I thought I'd be able to come upstairs and bug the shit out of you every day, you quarantined me. It was worse than you being at home because you were right there but I was banished," he says, his shrug more pronounced as she realises he knows what he's saying makes little sense.

"Like standing a kid outside a toy store but telling him he can't go in?" She tilts her head and smiles, wondering how many times he considered making his way up to her floor anyway, despite her explicit instructions for him to stay in his damn office.

"Something like that." He nods and his hand moves slowly down her arm, his fingers tangling in hers before he pulls away. "Alright, why don't you call for take out and I'll get changed."

She's putting the menu back in the kitchen drawer when she hears him walk in behind her and feels his hands move to her shoulders, his fingers kneading her tired muscles. It's only his touch that makes her realise just how long a week it's been, how much tension she's holding in her neck, across her back, and reminds her just how good his hands feel on her. Leaning back slightly she smiles as he shifts his hands, his fingers tickling the skin at the sides of her neck as she sighs with relief.

"You survived your first week back," he murmurs softly into her ear, his breath drifting over her skin.

"Barely," she says, pausing as his thumbs start to massage the knot at the base of her neck. "It may have felt like less of an endurance test if almost the entire staff hadn't been taken out by illness. And if Thomas hadn't got so used to me being home for the last three months that he was more difficult to leave this week than Henry, who obviously didn't want to be overlooked and decided he couldn't sleep more than three hours a night without demanding to be nursed. But you're right, the week is done, we all survived, and tomorrow I don't want to do anything that requires me to think. I'm serious, I'm talking nothing more challenging than drinking coffee and taking the kids to the park."

"I think we can manage that," he says, the smile evident in his voice, his thumbs pressing against her one final time before he slides his hands down to gently squeeze her upper arms. "Go sit down, honey, I'll bring us something to drink."

Just as she hadn't realised how much she was aching until he started to soothe her, she hadn't realised how hungry she was until their food arrives, and she has to force herself to slow down after she eats three pork dumplings in such quick succession she barely tastes them. When she stops to take a breath and glances up at him, he's looking at her with what seems to be a combination of amusement and awe.

"I'm hungry," she says with a shrug, wiping the corner of her mouth before looking down at the food on the table in front of her, wondering what she should reach for next, grinning when he hands her a carton, making her decision for her. "Kung Pao chicken?"

He nods and reaches for his own carton, and without asking or looking she knows it's shredded beef in chilli sauce. They eat quickly, washing the food down with beer, and when she's done she leans back on the couch, pressing herself against his side, her hand resting on his thigh. She feels relaxed for the first time all week. It's Friday, she has cover for both Jim and Don on Monday, and unless something earth shattering happens, she can spend the weekend giving her email little more than the occasional cursory glance, her attention focused on nothing but her family.

"You're okay with Mark Goodman covering, right?" she asks, trying but failing to stifle a yawn behind her hand. "He's decent, he's available, he's happy to step in-"

"Actually, Elliot and I switched, Mark's going to cover ten o'clock, and Amanda Chester is going to cover for Jim," he says, sliding his hand over hers and squeezing softly.

"You switched?" Something runs through her and she can't identify it but it makes her feel unsettled, irritated. "Was anyone planning to let me know?"

"I guess I...well, I didn't think it made any difference, as long as we all had cover." He sounds wary, probably sensing her tone, wondering why she seems to be irked by this. "She emailed me, Amanda, said she was looking forward to a stint in New York and that she was wondering if she could sit in on our show from the control room for a few minutes, get a feel for how we work. She's thinking about relocating up here, I thought it made more sense for her to cover News Night, see how our flagship show is run, that's all."

"She emailed you?" She heard the rest of what he said, and it makes sense, it really does, and she feels stupid for her unexpected feelings of...well, she doesn't know what she's feeling, just that she doesn't like it.

"Was there a particular reason you thought she'd be better suited to Elliot's show?" he asks, turning slightly to look at her, a frown creasing his brow. "Because I'm sure we could switch back, it's no big deal."

"Are you familiar with her?" she asks, sighing. "Amanda?"

"She's a producer in DC, and according to you she comes recommended from Maggie, but apart from that, no, I don't..." He pauses, his frown deepening and she bites her lip, averting her eyes from his. "What's this about?"

"Nothing. It's fine, it was a good call. You're right, if she's considering New York it'd be good to see how she handles News Night, if she's worth keeping in mind." She sighs again, aware she's being ridiculous, hoping this is down to a lack of sleep, anxiety at being back at work and away from two babies now, not one, because if there's anything set in stone it's that she trusts Will. She trusts him implicitly. "Just...google her, Billy."

"Google her?" He's still frowning when she does turn her gaze back to him, and she tries to look casual. "Am I looking for something in particular?"

"She looks like me before I had two kids and everything went a little south." She sighs, realising how stupid she sounds, like a jealous idiot, but she may as well clarify now she's started this. "She's a brunette, long legs, cute, just turned thirty. She's me ten years ago."

"Alright," he says, shifting and reaching for his phone from the table in front of them. 

"What are you doing?" she asks, watching as he picks it up, frowning slightly. 

"You said google her, so I'm googling her." He shrugs and falls silent as he looks at the screen, scrolls through what are probably photos, and looks back at her. "Dark hair, female. That's it. Apart from that, she's _nothing_ like you. Now, ten years ago, whenever."

"Okay." She feels like he's saying what he knows he should, and actually, she doesn't mind that right now. What she does mind are these stupid, irrational pangs of nonsensical jealousy over a woman Will has yet to meet when she knows he has no interest in another woman, just as other men offer no temptation to her. "So I'm not in danger of being traded in just yet?"

"Nah, you're good for a few more years at least." He nudges her shoulder and she smiles, thankful that he seems aware that it's nothing, that she's just having a silly blip. "Do you remember the first year we went to DC for the blossom after Thomas was born?"

"You tried to pack a million blankets, and I kept unpacking them, but you more than made up for it by making the decision to drive down rather than fly." She nods, her smile growing wider as she recalls Thomas in his carrier, snuggled against Will's chest as they wandered through the city. "I remember."

"Thomas was about the same age Henry is now, right?" His voice is soft and she wonders what he's remembering about the trip, or if he's thinking about how in a few months time they'll make their annual trip with two kids, not one.

"Eleven weeks, yeah," she says, watching as he smiles softly at her. "Why?"

"Do you remember the afternoon at the hotel, when Thomas was napping?" he asks, his tone telling her he definitely remembers.

"I remember you worrying that Thomas would be scarred for life if he woke up while we were having sex in the same room." She giggles when she thinks about that time, about them as brand new parents, calm about some things, frantic with worry about others.

"You were too busy worrying about your wobbly bits, I remember that," he says, quickly going on. "Non-existent wobbly bits, obviously."

"Obviously." She gives him a slightly sheepish smile because she thinks she knows where he's going with this, and she hates to admit it but he may be right. "Are you suggesting new mother hormones may have had something to do with that? And considering Henry is the same age now as Thomas was then, that maybe my fear of a younger, hotter EP staking a claim on my control room... _your_ control room, is also down to my becoming unhinged when I've had a baby?"

" _Our_ control room, and I'd like it stated for the record that the word unhinged didn't come from me, but now you mention it..." He grabs her hand and pulls it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles gently as he looks at her. "Can I show you something?"

"Sure," she says with a nod, feeling his hand slide free of hers.

"This," he says, holding up his hand and pointing to the wedding band on his finger. "Not just for decoration."

"I know." She leans up and kisses him, feeling silly, his simple gesture bringing a lump to her throat. "Word choice aside, there _may_ be something in your suggestion. Not helped by this week, and Thomas clinging to me the minute I walk through the door while Henry stakes his claim on his mummy time by demanding a feed every couple of hours through the night all over again."

"You're tired," he says, his mouth curving into a gentle smile and his hand reaching for hers. 

"I'm tired." She nods, letting out a sigh, her brain finally finding the logic that reminds her again that it's Friday, it's been a long week, and some semblance of rational thought will hopefully return after some sleep.

"What can I do?" he asks, his tone sweet, his voice soft.

"Don't suppose you can figure out how to breast feed your son in the next couple of hours?" She grins at him, knowing his offer is genuine but knowing too that what Henry wants in the middle of the night is something only she can provide.

"If only I had more than a couple of hours..." he says with a smile. "If I promised to get up with him in the morning, would that help?"

"It definitely wouldn't hurt," she says, returning his smile, the prospect of sleeping just a little later than usual outweighing her worry about the havoc Will might wreak trying to wrangle both boys at breakfast time.

"Done." He tugs on her hand as he stands up, his warm fingers in hers offering the comfort they always do. "Let's go to bed."

*

With absolutely no recollection of having fallen asleep, she wakes to the sound of Henry crying and Will's voice as it soothes him. Her eyes struggle to open, and her entire body wants to stay snuggled beneath the covers, warm and comfortable, with Will's light snoring lulling her back to sleep. Instead she groans and pushes herself up into a sitting position, a glance to her right telling her it's 3.04am.

"There, you woke Mommy, little guy...happy now?" Will's voice is soft and low, Henry's squalling lessening, almost as though he gets exactly what his father just told him. "Sorry honey, I tried to hold him off as long as I could."

"And I love you for trying." Her voice is hoarse, her throat dry from almost four hours of solid, heavy sleep. She sits up and coughs slightly, watching as Henry's attention turns to her, his lips pursed, his hands balled into curled fists and waving into the air. "Alright Henry, I know what you want, come here."

He settles against her and finds what he's looking for immediately, his anticipation palpable, his eyes wide as though he hasn't eaten in days. The room falls silent except for the sounds of him feeding, his little gulps as he pauses for air, his contented squeaks, and the hungry slurps that always make her smile. Looking up from the baby, she sees Will stretched out across the bed, his eyes on hers for a few seconds, then flicking down towards Henry. She remembers him watching her nursing Thomas with something close to wonder in his eyes, and she gets that, they both spent a lot of time being bewitched by Thomas, their little surprise, but there's a warmth that spreads through her knowing he's just as amazed second time around.

"You can go back to sleep, Billy," she says quietly, smiling at him. "There's really not much you can do to step in right now."

"I'm good here," he says with a shrug. "And once you're done, I can burp him and change him so you get to go back to sleep."

She sighs softly, reminded yet again of how good a father he is, how good he was right from the start, despite his nerves and uncertainty, and she loves how much he genuinely wants to do everything he can. Right now all he can do is wait until she can hand the baby back to him, so they fall into a sleepy silence, him being awake providing some comfort in the stillness of the early hours that always unnerves her. Henry eventually slows slightly but she knows he's not finished yet even if her body is still protesting at being awake and she yearns to curl up again under the covers. She yawns and he looks up, his dark blue eyes focused firmly on her, the expression in them suggesting he thinks she has some nerve daring to yawn while he's busy eating.

"He's judging me for yawning," she says, smiling at Will. "I can sense it. If he could talk I'm pretty sure "come on, Mama, where's your damn stamina?" would be his question right now."

"Yeah, because he's a nocturnal creature who can't quite understand why his Mommy would want to sleep when it's..." He pauses, glances at the clock, groans faintly. "Almost three thirty."

"Like a little bat." She runs her thumb gently across the baby's cheek and smiles. "But cuter."

"If we ignore the hours he keeps, he really is pretty cute," he says, grinning at her. "Don't know about you, but I vote we keep him."

"Hmm...I _am_ kind of used to him, and now Thomas seems to be okay with him not being a bunny, I think he's pretty fond of him too," she says with a smirk. "Oh, what the hell, he can stay."

Almost on cue, Henry lets out a sigh and she knows he's asleep. His lashes brush his cheeks and his lips are parted, but the clearest sign that's he's done for now comes when he doesn't flinch as Will takes him gently out of her arms and moves him to his shoulder. She hears two, three burps but she can't keep her eyes open any longer so she murmurs what she hopes sounds like a good night and buries herself back under her bedding.

*

There's a brief moment, between opening her eyes and making sense of wakefulness, when she accepts the silence and the cold, empty side of the bed beside her as normal, as what she wakes to every morning. It's followed by the welcome realisation that her life isn't like that any more, hasn't been for a long time, and that the empty crib combined with the lack of Will in their bed means he kept his word and let her sleep. God, she loves him. She blinks, rolls over, takes a sip from the glass of water next to the bed and grabs her phone, clumsily sliding her glasses on so she can quickly check there's nothing so urgent that she needs to respond.

Heading for the kitchen first, she pours a half cup of coffee and takes a long mouthful, closing her eyes and leaning back against the counter, wrapping her hands around the mug, enjoying the morning caffeine she's allowing herself now that she's only nursing at night. Glancing around the kitchen, it's clear that Henry has had a morning feed and Thomas has had what looks like something involving bananas...smiling, she takes a final gulp before leaving the mug on the counter and moving towards the living room, where she sees her entire family on the floor.

The TV is turned to ACN, volume down low, and she can't help quickly scanning the screen, her natural urge to look for any problems winning out. When she sees nothing out of the ordinary she turns her attention back to Will and the boys. Will is leaning back against the couch and Henry is perched in his lap, his tiny baby hands grasping onto his father's arm, already knowing he's in a safe place. His eyes are fixed on Thomas, fascinated by his brother concentrating on the train set in front of him, and she smiles at the sight of her eldest boy biting his lip slightly as he plays, a trait she knows is all hers.

"Hey, look who's awake." Will spots her in the doorway, and at his voice Henry turns his head to look at her while Thomas scrambles up off the floor, grabbing one of his trains before he rushes over to her.

"Mommy!" He grins up at her, giggling when she scoops him up and ruffles his hair, and he holds up his train for her to see.

"Hi sweetpea, are you having fun with your trains?" She smiles at him, her little Tom Tom, his equilibrium totally thrown by having got used to her at home again only to watch her head back to work this week.

"Percy!" He holds his train higher, in front of her face, as if she hasn't seen his toys thousands of times before.

"Is he your favourite this week?" She watches as he nods, knowing that Thomas was his favourite last week, and that it'll be another train entirely next time she asks.

She kisses his cheek and puts him back down, watching as he settles in again to focus on his trains. Sitting down next to Will, she turns and takes his face in her hands, running her fingers across his cheekbones and smiling at his slightly unkempt hair before leaning in and kissing him, his lips warm under hers, the faint taste of coffee on his breath mingling with the same on hers. She pulls away and he tilts his head, a trace of a smirk on his lips as she lets out a long, contented sigh.

"Morning, honey. Everything okay?" she asks, stroking a hand gently over Henry's head where's he's tucked against Will, looking as comfortable as she's ever seen anyone look.

"It was carnage for a while but we're all good now," he says, shrugging so she doesn't push him on the exact definition of carnage. The boys are happy, fed, appear to still have all limbs intact, so she suspects carnage may simply be Will's description of trying to get them both fed at the same time. "I even had time for two mouthfuls of coffee."

"Well done you." She nudges his shoulder and smiles, resting her head against him, pushing her thigh against his. "Remember when we both used to sleep until nine on weekends?"

"I have absolutely no memory of such a fantasy life." The arm that isn't holding Henry drifts over to her leg, his hand gently squeezing her thigh. "Are you sure it's me you're thinking of?"

"Pretty sure," she says. "I mean, I guess it could have been one of my many other husbands...no, it was you, definitely you."

"If you say so," he says, his tone laced with a smirk.

His thumb moves higher up her thigh and it feels good, _really_ good, good enough that she determines right there that they _will_ find time for sex this weekend, even if it means twenty damn minutes at three in the morning. God knows they've tried in the weeks since she was given the all clear, but with a baby, a toddler and a schedule that means she's ready to drop by the time Will gets home each night, she can count almost on one hand the number of times they've managed it, and she misses it. When she was pregnant with Henry, Leona told her to have as much sex as possible because "honey, it'll be a fucking age before you find time again," and she remembers thinking they'd manage, they'd make time, all the good intentions people have before reality kicks them in the face with the force of an angry donkey.

"What do you say to taking the kids out this afternoon and tiring them the hell out?" She lifts her head from Will's arm and looks up at him. "I'm talking so much fresh air that they're worn out tonight. Completely, utterly, sleep-for-hours, exhausted."

"Is this so you can sleep for hours too?" he asks, his brow creasing slightly. "Because I've totally got this if you still have sleep to catch up on, I'm-"

"I slept like a log last night, Billy. I'm rested," she murmurs, leaning closer and looking into his eyes. "I want them to go to sleep so we can... _not_ go to sleep."

"You want...oh..." Realisation kicks in and she nods, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as his eyes widen slightly.

"In six weeks we've had sex five and half times, and it's just..." She pauses, runs her tongue across her top lip, feeling his grip on her thigh tighten slightly. "It's not a figure I'm happy with."

"If it's the half that's bugging you, then technically one of us did make it to six," he says, and she knows he's right, that she did okay that night before Henry interrupted and poor Will didn't quite reach the finish line.

"Thank you, my selfless husband." She smiles at him, sliding her hand over his, squeezing his fingers. "If we wear these little munchkins out today, I promise you'll get your half and then some tonight."

"Bet you didn't make promises like that to all those husbands before me, did you?" He smirks, shifting slightly as Henry wriggles in his lap.

"Nope, I saved all my best promises for you, honey," she says, reaching for Henry as he continues to get restless, taking him from Will and pulling her knees up to lay him on her thighs, smiling at him and watching him start to relax as she runs small circles across his belly. "Could you take him in the carrier when we go out?"

"Sure," he says, nodding and glancing down at Henry who looks quite happy in his new position, his feet kicking against her thighs as he watches her. "You don't want to take the stroller?"

"I just thought if you're okay with Henry, I can hold on to Thomas, and..." She pauses, looks over at where Thomas is still playing with his trains, seemingly oblivious to their conversation, but she lowers her voice anyway. "I want to make sure I have time with him this weekend. This week has been hard on him, I think, with me going back to work and then hardly having a minute with him in the evenings because Henry's been so clingy...I just don't want him to start feeling like baby here is getting all the attention."

"You've been worrying about this on top of everything?" He looks concerned, his frown more pronounced, and she reaches for his hand, squeezing his fingers as she shakes her head.

"No, I haven't," she says, pulling her hand back and resting it back on the baby's belly. "Not worrying, just aware of catching it before it becomes an issue."

"Alright." He watches her for a few seconds, before he seems to decide he doesn't need to worry and smiles softly at her. "You're really good at this, you know, the mom thing. Really good."

"I'm good at everything." She shrugs but she returns his smile, appreciating his words. "You're not bad either. At the dad thing, I mean."

"Yeah, I do okay," he says, sliding his hand over to Henry, both of them watching as the baby grabs his finger and holds on. "They seem to like me."

"Please. They adore you, and you know it." She nudges his shoulder playfully. "And if you're fishing for compliments, so do I."

*

"You, Daddy," Thomas's tone isn't a happy one, and she sighs, wondering if her hopes for both of the kids to go to sleep fairly early tonight were just too high. "You feed baba."

"I can't feed him right now, buddy. I can feed him in the morning while Mommy has breakfast with you, but at bedtime Henry needs the special milk only Mommy can feed him." Her heart melts a little at Will calmly dealing with poor Thomas and his confusion about why the baby steals her time in the evening. "I know Mommy would love to see you though, even while she's feeding Henry. I bet if we go in there right now, you can snuggle up with Mommy and Henry. What do you say?"

She doesn't hear a response from Thomas, instead she sees the two of them appear in the doorway, Thomas in his pyjamas, Will's hand gently tousling his hair, a small frown on the toddler's face when he sees Henry nursing.

"Hey, sweetie," she says, smiling at him and patting the couch beside her. "I wondered where my big boy was. You want to come up here with me? I can feed Henry _and_ give my Tom Tom a cuddle."

He makes an attempt to climb onto the couch, ending with him half on, half off, and a shove from Will sees him end up on the cushion next to her, his eyes on Henry, his hand reaching tentatively for him.

"Go ahead, you can touch him, as long as you're nice and gentle. Do you want to hold his hand while he finishes his milk?" When Thomas nods, she takes his hand and moves it closer to Henry, watching as the baby grabs his big brother's finger. "There you go, you're helping Mummy with him, you're such a good boy."

She pushes her hand into Thomas's hair, tickling the back of his head, breathing a sigh of relief for a moment or two of calm, her two boys on the couch, both quiet, both happy, made even better when Will sits down on the other side of Thomas and smiles at her over their son's head. Not for the first time, she marvels at the restorative power of a few hours of solid sleep, of a day just being together, no pressure, no work, no plans, and she dares to hope again that before long the boys will be asleep and she'll get the time with Will she craves.

"When Henry's done here, should we let Daddy take him to bed, and then I can read a story with you before you go to sleep?" She smiles as Thomas nods enthusiastically, the routine of a bedtime story something they instilled from the start, and have never missed, no matter what.

"Gilla, we read gilla," Thomas says, his tone implying his choice isn't up for negotiation.

"Good Night, Gorilla, _again_?" She grins at him, knowing how much he loves it, and happy to read it for the millionth time, even if she does know it now without needing to look at the page. "Well, okay then, Tom Tom, if that's the one you want."

"All done, baba?" He leans in closer and frowns at the baby, clearly unimpressed with how long he's taking when there's a story waiting to be read.

"He's almost done, sweetie." She ruffles his hair again, watching as his dark blue eyes flick up to hers, his frown lifting slightly. "If you go with Daddy and brush your teeth, I think Henry will be all finished when you get back, and then we can read our story, okay?"

"Yep, 'kay." He turns to Will and climbs into his lap, resting his hands on his shoulders. "Daddy teeth."

By some stroke of miraculous synchronicity, she finishes burping Henry just as Will walks back into the room with Thomas, so she kisses the baby’s forehead before handing him over and reaching down to take Thomas by the hand.

“Come on, little guy, story time,” she says, leading him to his room, smiling at Will as they pass.

It’s so easy to forget, with a small baby demanding so much of her time, that Thomas is still little too, and until not very long ago, he was her baby. She’s glad to have spent lots of quality time with him this afternoon, feeding the ducks, pushing him on the swing, caving in to his request for a treat, his pink cheeks and hopeful smile leaving her with no resistance. All while Will happily sauntered alongside them, Henry strapped safely to his chest, his eyes on Thomas, smiling at his brother’s giggles. She curls up beside Thomas, her arm around him, his head against her chest, and she notices him slide his thumb into his mouth as she opens the book, a habit he seemed to have broken until Henry came along. Logically, she knows it’s a natural reaction to a new sibling, but she hates to think of him feeling displaced or insecure, so she squeezes him a little tighter and drops a kiss to the top of his head.

“Story, Mommy,” he says, quietly, clearly confused as to why she has the book open but hasn’t started to read.

He manages to stay awake until she’s finished, but he offers no protest when she climbs out of bed and tucks him under his covers, even though she knows the next time they check on him, they'll have been long kicked off. She leans down and kisses him, his cheek warm under her touch, a faint smile on his face as his eyes flutter shut.

“Goodnight, sweetie,” she murmurs. “I love you.”

She closes the door behind her, and notes the silence from their bedroom across the hall, stepping over to peek in briefly, letting out a sigh as she sees Henry already sleeping soundly. Two sleeping kids means only one thing, she finally gets Will all to herself, and she doesn’t intend to waste a minute of it. He’s on the couch when she walks into the living room, flicking idly through the channels before landing on ACN. She moves over and stands in front of him, taking the remote out of his hand, turning the TV off, and dropping the remote onto the table.

“No work tonight,” she says, smirking at him as she peels off her sweater, tossing it onto the floor, watching as his eyes drift down to her collarbone as she stands in her tank top and jeans. “The kids are sleeping, I have plans for you.”

"You do, huh?" His hands reach for her, settling on her hips, his eyes flicking up to focus on her face. "God, Mac, you look amazing."

"You mean 'God, Mac, your boobs are huge', right?" She quirks an eyebrow and climbs into his lap, straddling his thighs, her hands grasping his shoulders, feeling the solid warmth of his skin through his t-shirt.

"That would definitely form part of my assessment, yeah..." His fingers skim across her collarbone and down into her cleavage, as though proving his point, his touch making her squirm, her hands gripping onto him more tightly. "I'm thinking this could require a full investigation."

"Mmm, do you have a permit for this kind of search operation?" She pauses, her breath catching as he pulls her tank top over her head and hurls it to the floor, the backs of his fingers moving slowly up her abdomen and over her ribcage, the faint tickle making her smile.

"I'm serious, honey, you're really fucking sexy right now," he says, his voice low as his hands move to her bra, her not even slightly sexy nursing bra with its token lace trim across the top of the cups.

"I guess this time the baby weight decided to fall right off, leaving only my enormous nursing boobs as a reminder," she says, sighing at the touch of his thumbs running across the lace, his fingertips lightly trailing over her skin. She feels her nipples harden inside her bra, a tightening that comes with an ache, a yearning for him to touch her. "I'm glad you approve."

He smiles and she moves her hands to his face, her thumbs stroking across his skin, her eyes fixed on his as she explores the contours of his cheekbones, his jawline, the face she knows so well and never tires of seeing, of touching. She thinks about her mood last night, her uncharacteristic jealously in response to the thought of a young, pretty EP taking Jim's place for barely a few shows, and she feels stupid, wishing she'd been able to instantly put it down to how tired she was and shake it right off.

"You know, I was really tired last night, and I may not have been thinking _entirely_ rationally..." She starts, biting her lip and sliding her hands back down to rest on his shoulders. "Today I have the clarity that comes with sleep, and I don't care if you are getting a younger version of me in the control room, I know you're pretty sweet on your old missus."

"Yeah, I do like her," he says with a smile, moving both hands around her back and pulling her against him. "As old and worn in as she may be, she's my wife-"

"Hey, how about we go back to "Mackenzie, you're the sexiest woman I've ever laid eyes on"? Or whatever it was you said." She smirks at him and shifts in his lap, her lips brushing his, her hands moving to the back of his neck, stroking through his hair.

"Close enough," he murmurs against her, his eyes drifting shut as she kisses him, his hands warm as they roam across her back, over her shoulder blades, onto the nape of her neck.

Deepening the kiss, she shifts slightly, moving in his lap, pushing herself against him, running her tongue slowly over his top lip before sliding it into his mouth, against his. Her fingers tug hard on his hair and he groans, his hands moving higher, caressing the base of her skull. She lifts her hips just a fraction and settles down again, grinning against his lips as she feels him hard beneath her.

“Well, well, _someone’s_ ready,” she says, smirking as she glances down briefly before climbing out of his lap and standing in front of him.

“Someone _is_ ready,” he says, his voice strained as he looks at her, his eyes running from her face, slowly down to her feet and back up again. “So why are you no longer in my lap?”

She says nothing, instead unzipping her jeans and dragging them slowly down her legs, reaching for his hand to steady her as she steps out of them and kicks them aside, leaving her standing in front of him in just her tank top and underwear. He runs his hands down the sides of her thighs, his fingers gently tickling, teasing, and when he pitches forward and starts to drop small, hot kisses to her skin, she moans and feels a welcome rush of wetness between her legs. Grabbing his hand, she moves it to her panties, pushing herself against him, watching his eyes widen and turn dark simultaneously.

“You’re not the only one who’s ready,” she says, pausing to catch her breath when his fingers move against the cotton, the friction sending a jolt of anticipation, of arousal through her body. “Take your jeans off, Billy.”

“Here?” He sounds surprised but his hand doesn’t stop moving, two, three fingers rubbing against her as she bites her lip and moans again. “You want do it here?”

“Right here,” she says, repeating her instruction, incapable of much more. “Take your jeans off.”

“Alright,” he says, sounding flustered but moving his hands from her underwear to the button of his jeans, unzipping them quickly and looking up at her. “But-"

“Oh my God, _what_?!” She watches an amused grin spread onto his lips, and she knows she sounds desperate but she doesn’t care.

“Just…we're in the middle of the living room, in full view of the door…” He stops when she slides her hand into his shorts, pushing them down and wrapping her fingers around him, a grin on her face to rival his. “Nothing, shit, carry on.”

“You underestimate me. Henry can’t climb out of his crib yet, and because I’m a genius I left the monitor in Thomas’s room, just for now, so if you’re worried about a little visitor, we’re all good. That kid couldn’t get up and leave his room quietly if his life depended on it. If he wakes up we'll know about it before he appears in that doorway.” She strokes him, softly at first then with more pressure when she feels him get even harder in her hand as her eyes dart down. “Well, hello down there, I've missed _you_.”

“It's been what? Eight? Nine days? Wait, are you…” He laughs and she shrugs. “Are you talking to my-"

“Yes I am,” she says quickly, honestly, giving one more hard pump for emphasis. “I’m unashamedly horny, and I’ve missed him.”

“Him?” He raises an eyebrow and she feels him swelling in her hand, twitching under her fingers, and she needs him inside her now.

“Before you ask, no, I don’t have a name for him, but looking at him, I’d say he’s missed me too.” She slides her hand free, ignoring the groan he lets out before replacing her hand with his own as he watches her discard her panties. “Actually, screw it, leave your jeans on, I can get to what I need just as you are. Look at him, standing to attention there, like a good little soldier.”

“Little?” He runs his thumb deliberately through the fresh bead of pre-cum dancing at his tip.

“Shut up.” She pushes his hand aside, replaces it briefly with her own, climbs back onto his lap and slides him inside her.

He's right, it has only been nine days, but it feels longer, it feels like if they don't pencil in the sex then it doesn't happen, and hell, even when they _do_ pencil it in, they have no real control over the baby and his sometimes unpredictable sleeping habits. She has brief moments when she misses the way they used to be able to embrace spontaneity, when one or the other of them would suddenly find themselves pressed against a wall, or would be woken up by the soft touch of a tongue. The moments are brief though, she wouldn't swap what they have now for anything, even if right now they're lucky if they manage sex once a week. Never has the 'quality, not quantity' refrain been more important.

She feels his hands on her back, moving down to her hips, his thumbs rubbing over her hipbones as she moves against him, slowly, feeling every hard inch of him inside her, exactly what she needed. Kissing him, she moans into his mouth as he thrusts harder into her, his fingers clutching at her skin. He drags his lips from hers, his mouth locking onto her earlobe, sucking gently before moving down her neck, his touch so light it makes her shiver, and she feels her nipples straining against her bra. She keeps moving, rocking in his lap, feeling him pushing into her, aware of his hands pulling the straps of her tank top and her bra down off her shoulders, of his tongue circling the freckle on her shoulder, but when his mouth moves to her breast she freezes and tugs on his hair until he looks up at her.

"I don't think..." She pauses as his thumb replaces his mouth, sliding slowly around her nipple, his eyes still on hers. "Oh...that's good, that's so good. Just not...hands only, I think, for now. I can't quite handle going from having Henry on there to you, because it's so...does that sound really weird?"

"It's not weird," he says, flattening his hand and pressing his palm against her, his hand warm as she pushes her nipple hard into it. "But you know, these were mine before they were Henry's, for the record."

"I think you'll find they were Thomas's before Henry's." She smirks, feeling the warm flush spreading across her chest as he rolls her nipple between his thumb and finger, and she wonders for a second if this going to be messy, if he may be about to get slightly more than he bargained for, but it wouldn't be the first time, and it feels so nice that she goes with it. "And actually, they were _mine_ before that, and technically they still are, even if it doesn't feel like it anymore."

"I'm the one male in this apartment who demands nothing from them. I just want to make them happy, honey," he says, pulling back slightly so just the tip of his finger is stroking her, drawing small circles around her nipple as he thrusts up into her. "They're just so damn... _impressive_ right now."

"Well, you will keep knocking me up," she says, pulling his hand away and threading her fingers through his, squeezing hard as she tilts her hips to accommodate him even deeper inside her.

"Yeah, I will." He smiles a smile of unmistakeable pride and she shakes her head, allowing him his moment of indulgence.

"Are you done patting yourself on the back? Because knocking me up is not what you're going to be doing tonight." She threads the fingers on their other hands together and pushes them back against the couch, shifting the angle so she can set the pace.

"What if I just knocked you up every year…" he says, his words tumbling out, his breaths getting heavier as she speeds up, sliding herself down hard into his lap and pulling back. Even as she feels him completely filling her, consuming her brain, she hears the underlying seriousness beneath the lightness of his tone. “I mean, for the next couple of years at least.”

“We’d need to buy a bigger place, that’s what,” she says, returning his smile, squeezing her muscles around him in an attempt to divert him back to where they were before the conversation took a turn. “You’d probably need to accept that I’d end up ten permanent pounds heavier, ACN would fall apart because I’d be too exhausted to run it with any kind of efficiency, and hell, it’d be years before we got a good night’s sleep again. But sure, let’s just keep churning out those babies.”

“It was just a thought.” He says, his eyes widening as she leans forward slightly, pushing her breasts into his face as she gets back to the pace she was finding so satisfying just minutes ago.

“Yeah, well…” She speeds up and grins as he lets out a groan, shaking her head when his mouth moves towards her nipple almost automatically. “You shouldn’t think thoughts when you’re inside me. New rule.”

He opens his mouth to respond but it’s the exact same moment Thomas coughs, loud and clear through the monitor, causing them both to stop, and she sees him holding his breath, just as she is. What seems like the longest few seconds ever, they wait, but there’s no follow up and when it appears Thomas is still sleeping they let out simultaneous sighs before she follows hers with a giggle.

“If that isn’t the universe telling us something, then I don’t know what is,” she says, leaning forward to kiss him firmly on the lips. “Add to my previous list, we would never find time to have sex again, which is where your grand plan falls down.”

“I can see how that might be a problem,” he says, his lips chasing hers as she pulls back, capturing them in a kiss equally firm, punctuating his words.

“Good, so can we shut up and finish?” She doesn’t expect an answer, nor does she wait for one. Instead she moves her hands to his shoulders, sighing loudly when she feels him gripping her tighter, pushing up deeper into her as she picks up her pace and starts to ride him harder, her breaths becoming moans.

“And they say romance is dead…” His smirk disappears behind a long groan when she slides her lips onto his earlobe, her teeth tugging at his skin as his fingers tighten at her hips, his thumbs pushing hard enough against her that she can probably expect a cluster of tiny bruises to make an appearance by morning. It’s a thought that makes her smile.

Her entire body hums with urgency, a deep and desperate need to feel him come inside her, for his fingers to gently take her with him, so she trails her lips from his earlobe to his ear.

"You want romance, you can buy me flowers and chocolates tomorrow, make me breakfast, get up with the kids, whatever..." she murmurs against him. "For now, the most romantic thing you can do is to make me come."

He doesn't reply, just lifts his head to gaze at her, his eyes dark and hungry as he moves a hand down between them and starts to push against her. She's way beyond wanting him to be gentle, and he senses it, rubbing two fingers in fast, frantic circles through her wetness, her instinct to pull him even deeper into her taking over, her nails dragging across his skin as her moans get louder. She wants release, _needs_ it, and she wants him right with her, or probably more realistically right behind her, so she tightens her muscles around him, knowing by the change in his breathing, by the slow blinks he gives her, that he's close. He pulls his fingers away, only for as long as it takes to stroke his thumb against her, and it takes barely a flick before she's coming hard, his name a garbled moan on her lips. Watching as he slides his fingers into his mouth, slowly licking her juices from them, she feels herself riding out her orgasm, feels the heat in her cheeks as she pushes her hands into his hair and scratches her nails lightly down the back of his neck. It's enough and his hands stop moving, holding her tightly in place, her hips firmly in his grasp, his eyes closing briefly and a long, low groan escaping him as he finishes inside her.

“God, I knew I needed that, but I think I underestimated quite how much.” She leans forward to kiss him, sighing in satisfaction, raising her hips enough for him to slowly slip out of her, settling back onto his thighs, thankful that his not having made it out of his jeans is sparing their couch from needing some hasty clean-up. “Even if I have to call you upstairs for very important _business_ reasons, we are not going nine days without this again, okay?”

“No argument from me, honey,” he says, his smile affectionate, his index finger running slowly down her nose. “That was amazing, and I didn’t even get my jeans off. I’m impressed.”

"I may not be a hot thirty-year-old anymore, but never let it be said I can't get this done, and done well." She glances down and smiles before climbing half out of his lap, balancing herself with a hand on his shoulder, managing to grab the tissues from the table beside them, moving them to the couch.

“Eh.” He shrugs, his eyes on hers, the darkness in his eyes slowly fading, returning them to their usual light blue. "Hot thirty-year-olds are overrated."

“Really?” She quirks an eyebrow and pulls a tissue from the box, pausing and sliding her hand between her legs. "You didn't seem to object when we first met..."

"Hot thirty-year-olds who aren’t you are overrated,” he says, smiling. “And anyway, you were twenty-nine when we met.”

"Right…so what? I was a year…no, six months from reaching peak hotness?” She watches his eyes follow her hand as she deftly finishes cleaning up and tosses the tissue onto the table, before settling back down onto his thighs and looping her arms around his neck. “Thank God you stuck around for it.”

"Oh believe me, you had totally hit peak hotness.” He reaches for her, tucking her hair behind her ears and running the backs of his fingers across her cheekbone. “And you’re still there. Still hot. Still peak.”

"Charmer,” she says, smirking even as his words fill her with warmth, with a reassurance that she shouldn’t need, doesn’t need, but that she appreciates anyway. “You know what I’d like now?”

“For the kids to stay asleep for the next twelve hours?” he asks, grinning when she snorts in response.

“There’s wishful thinking, Billy, and there’s crazy talk.” She runs her hands up his neck and into his hair, closing the distance between them to kiss him softly, rubbing her nose against his.

“Alright then, I’m going to guess food is what you want,” he says, letting out something close to a satisfied purr when her nails roam across his skin. “Am I right?”

“Yep.” She smiles at him and he moves his hands to her waist, slowly stroking them up her ribcage and sliding them around her back, his fingertips dancing across her shoulder blades. “I want a grilled cheese sandwich, and then I want tea and Oreos.”

“My wife and her exotic tastes...consider it done.” His smile grows wider and there’s a sparkle in his eyes. “Will you fade away if you don’t eat in the next five minutes?”

“It’s possible…but doubtful,” she says, smirking as she thinks about hot, melted cheese, a huge mug of tea and as many Oreos as she can manage. “Why? What do you want to do?”

“Just this.” He moves his hand higher and pulls her closer to him, bringing her face to rest in the crook of his neck.

“You’re such a sap,” she murmurs, but there’s a smile in her voice that she knows he can hear. “I know,” he says quietly, stroking his fingers through her hair. “Indulge me.”

She can hear the smile in his voice too, and he’s warm, and comfortable, so she curls up against him and lets herself enjoy it.


End file.
